


Light in the Darkness

by bettysjughead



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Drabbles, F/M, One-Shots, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Other characters not mentioned - Freeform, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettysjughead/pseuds/bettysjughead
Summary: Inspired by LazyDaizy. Random one shots and drabbles about my absolute favorite Riverdale couple, Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones. This will have no update schedule, persay, but I hope to have it updated at least once a week or two. It will probably be updated more than that, with all of my crazy midnight writing ideas, but that’s just an outline. Enjoy!





	1. unbroken

**Author's Note:**

> Betty and Jughead future!au

“How was wedding planning?”

 

Betty shut her eyes tightly as she realized her fiancé was still awake in the next room. She hoped that since it was so late he would’ve gone to bed, and she could avoid this whole conversation. But the television played with a low volume and Jughead laid on the couch, a blanket draped over him, wide awake. Waiting for her to get home safe.

 

She smelled like hospital. Betty needed to get out of these clothes, shower, and drown in the water. Maybe she could bathe and it would push the subject away for that night. Her skin felt wrong, her mind felt wrong, she  _felt_ wrong. 

 

Would Jughead still want to marry her? Still want to love her?

 

Jughead reaches for multiple articles in Betty’s  arms, what Veronica and her mother helped her go through and organize, wanting to see the choices. When Betty first started playing with her maid of honor to-be and mother, he said he didn’t care what they’d do, only that he’d be standing at the end of the aisle as Betty walked down to him. He still looked at plans, what catering companies they were looking for and the flowers for the bride and bridesmaids, to look at the hard work Betty had been doing. But, his goal was never to change anything. All he wanted to do was marry her.

 

Would that still be true, after she told him what she needed to?

 

Betty handed him every catalogue expect the dresses one, and flipped to a page in her notebook and handed him that also. She leaned in to kiss him, pulling away quickly so he wouldn’t get the scent of  _sterile_ the hospital carried. She couldn’t deal with his questions on why she smelled so, couldn’t deal at the moment with him freaking out and demanding what was wrong. 

 

“I’m going to shower,” Betty said, walking into their room that was downstairs. When they had bought the design, they said that they could guard the danger that came to the house, before it reached their children who would’ve later gone in the four rooms upstairs.

 

Children.

 

Betty shivered at the thought. She peeled off her shirt, the material sticking to her skin with the stress and anxiety filled sweat. Starting the shower, Betty began to undo the many rolls in her jeans that her best friend was forced to give her. The shirt she had taken off was Archie’s. Jughead hadn’t noticed her wardrobe change before she went to shower; good. How would’ve she explained that without going into anything?

 

_Yeah, I bled right through my jeans. My shirt was covered in throw up because once I found out, I had vomited. But everything’s completely fine._

 

At least she knew now why her monthly period had been so heavy, the pain staying for hours even when she took medication. At least she knew why it was so painful when her and Jughead made love, why they never got pregnant if they just happened to forget protection. Now, she knew why, in recent months, she had gotten dizzying spells and times when she couldn’t read properly.

 

When she was out with her mother and best friend, the symptoms came fast. Her period had just started that morning after two full weeks of having it. There were days when she was fine, although getting sick in the mornings, three days exactly separating the two cycles, before she saw it she started yet again. She should’ve gone to a doctor then, should’ve brought Jughead with her. Instead, she went on with her day, hanging out with Veronica while their husbands worked, talking about the wedding. Alice had joined them that night, going to dinner with them and helping with the plans.

 

But as Betty got up from the dinner booth, the dizziness had hit her so hard she went falling. People looked, even some showing wide eyes and dropped eyes as Betty fell. Veronica moved from where she stood, kneeling to catch Betty’s body before her head knocked onto the floor. Her mother gasped, trying to move out fast but falling short with a glance to where Betty was sitting. 

 

The cushioned booth seat was covered in blood.

 

” _Don’t call Jughead,”_  Betty said, holding a hand to her head. “If _I found out one of you called him–“_

 

 _”We won’t call him,”_ Veronica’s eyes were wide with panic as she saw why Alice had stopped. She glanced to Betty’s pants, and her heart dropped as she saw the jeans that were soaked in the same dark liquid. “Betty..”

 

 _It’s not a miscarriage,”_  She’d told them quickly. “ _It’s not. I would know if I was pregnant. I would know. I would know. I would’ve told you,”_  She was panicking. _“You and my mother would be the first - be the first to know if I was pregnant.”_

 

 _”We called 911,”_ A couple nearby said. Everyone was looking at them now, some even moving closer from their dinner seats to come closer.  _“They’re on their way.”_

 

Betty had tried to hold in her tears, and failed. She wanted Jughead there then, wanted him to hold her gently in his arms. There was no way she was having a miscarriage. It was so hard originally for her and Jughead to even get pregnant, after their many times without protection. The last time her and Jughead even had sex was weeks ago, before she had started her period. Her  _period._ Meaning there was no way she could’ve been pregnant.

 

 _”I just had my cycle,”_ Betty said to her mother, the words strangled with tears in her throat.  _“This isn’t a miscarriage.”_

 

That made her more worried, it seemed. Even Veronica was concerned, a permanent look on her face with her eyebrows furrowed and sadness in her eyes. The ambulance had arrived to the restaurant and Veronica had gotten into her car, saying she’d go get clothes from her place. She was worried, though,  _really_ worried. Her husband Archie, had just gotten home, was also Betty’s friend. 

 

But she knew what had happened when she got to the hospital. No, not a miscarriage. A miscarriage wouldn’t even had been possible, considering what the doctor told them. They wanted Betty to stay overnight, for observation, but let her go once she said she had a fiancé who had no idea what was happening, who  _couldn’t_ know. She was released after promising she’d go to her own doctor for a check up in a few days – when everything was settled.  _If_ anything was settled.

 

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Betty was startled out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized when she had gotten in the shower or when she started to put shampoo in her hair or soap on her body.

 

”Betty? Are you alright?”

 

There was no way she could tell him. How would he take it? Why did Betty have a feeling he would end things with her, even though he was in love with her?

 

Betty turned off the water, reaching for a towel and not realizing when the hot water of the shower faucet had mixed with the tears now falling down her face. The bathroom door stayed closed, Jughead expecting her privacy.

 

”Yes.”

 

She hoped it didn’t sound as pathetic as she thought it did. Tears continued down her cheeks. How would she ever tell him?

 

”Okay.” There was quiet and Betty sighed, thinking he had walked away. But a moment later, his voice came again. “I love you.”

 

But then his deep breathing disappeared as she did walk away. Betty wrapped the towel around her body, stepping cautiously into their bedroom. She walked fast to the dresser, pulling out pajamas and silently dressing for bed.

 

She had to tell him.

 

Jughead was lying on the couch again, blanket tucked under his arm and eyes glued to whatever was playing on the television. He glanced at her when she walked into the living room, going to lift the blanket to allow her to sneak under, as they did every night.

 

And Betty let the words go.

 

”I went to the hospital tonight,” She said, watching him. Jughead widened his eyes, dropping the blanket and sitting up fast. “Nobody called you because I said not to. I bled through my pants so hard, Veronica and my mom were convinced I had a miscarriage. Which wasn’t true, because I had just had my period so the last time we did anything was before that, and my period was proof nothing happened.” Betty was rambling and she knew it, too. “I fell down when I went to get up at dinner, the blood was found, and I was brought to the hospital.”

 

Jughead waited for the part he knew was coming. His bones were stiff as he sat there, shoulders tense. But he didn’t say a word, waiting. 

 

“And the doctor told me I was infertile.”

 

Jughead took in a shuddering breath, dropping his head into his hands.

 

“I told her about my periods, and how they were sometimes weird. Sometimes there for a month and absent for two. I told her about the dizzy spells, and of the fact we’ve had unprotected sex a handful of times and nothing happened. It’s because I am infertile, Jug. The symptoms are early warnings that happen when your body is going through what is happening with mine.” The once tense shoulders of her fiancé were now pulled in, trembling. Jughead didn’t lift his face, didn’t show the tears that were most likely falling down his face. “I can’t have children. I’m so sorry.” 

 

Her right hand reached for her left and she twisted the engagement ring around and around, what she did when she was anxious. Would he ask her to remove it first? Would he walk up to her, take her left hand in his and tug it off? Would he take his own one off, the one he put on to show he was completely hers, and wanted to show it too? Would he pack his things, leaving the house to her, or would he pack her things, kicking her out? How many people would be told in the matter of days that the wedding was off?

 

Betty watched Jughead stand up. He walked closer to her, slowly, only making Betty’s anxiety increase. She wanted to hide her hand, hide the ring on it, so he could never take it. What about her decision? She wanted to marry  _him._

 

It was such a selfish thought that Betty pushed it out of her head a moment later. If Jughead didn’t want to marry her anymore, Betty would be just fine. It was her own fault that she was infertile, that  _her_ body was breaking down inside.

 

Betty would be fine if Jughead left her. She would lose the love of her life, the love she had had ever since she was in her sophomore year of high school, but she would be fine. If having children was something Jughead wanted, then of course she would let him have that chance.

 

Slowly, Jughead reached for her hands. Betty let him take them, heart beating fast at what he would do. Instead of taking her ring, telling her to leave his house, he took her hands and moved them around his body, pulling her closer and moving his arms around her body, too. She melted into him, the sobs that were kept hidden for the past few hours finally falling from her lips. Jughead held her tight, calming her with a shushing sound in her ear.

 

She was relieved; both that Jughead still wanted her, still loved her, and it wasn’t a miscarriage she experienced. Somehow, losing a child was worse than never being able to have them.

 

“I’m sorry,” Betty cried.

 

”Betts,” Jughead said. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I don’t care whether or not you can have children. I’m marrying you because I am in love with _you_ , not the fact of you being fertile or not.”

 

”It doesn’t make you love me less?” Betty asked, hating how small her voice sounded. 

 

 _“Of course_ _not_ ,” Jughead said, as if the question was even stupid to be considered. “There’s always things we can do. We can have a surrogate, or adopt, or foster.”

 

But she wanted to hold the child in her stomach. She wanted to be the home for her children and wanted to experience a baby in her stomach with Jughead. Now, that wouldn’t happen.

 

”I’m upset that you didn’t call me,” Jughead said, pulling back but lifting his hands to her face, wiping her tears. “But I’m glad that you had Veronica and your mother there. Next time something like this happens, call me. I’m not going to love you less, or end our relationship and the wedding.” It was if he had read her throughts from before. “I am going to do what my job as a fiancé is and be by your side as you’re told news like that and tell you how much I love you anyways.” His eyes searched hers and began speaking again. “Just as much as I will love any children we get, even if you are not biologically their mother. But call me. I’d much rather be with you than sitting at home, thinking you are perfectly fine.”

 

Betty nodded, leaning in closer to his touch. “I promise to call you the next time this happens, and to keep you updated.” Betty felt better that the night didn’t get worse. She felt bad for thinking those things of Jughead; that he would kick her out and cancel the wedding. His love was too strong. “I love you too.” 

 

They still needed to make an appointment with the doctor. But it was late, and the office wouldn’t be open. So Jughead tugged her closer to the couch again and pulled her to him, under the blanket. Tomorrow. That was when they would figure everything out.


	2. effects you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this story kinda went MIA but now I'm back and I'm gonna be updating more things! xoxo :).

Oh, Elizabeth Cooper,

 

If you don't think about it, it doesn't effect you, right? I spend my time drinking bottles upon bottles of vodka just trying to drown out the sound of your voice on all of the voicemails you had left on my phone, cute little good morning and good night messages, just checking up on how I was doing or how my novel was coming along. I busy myself with irrelevant tasks so I don't drive to your old house every day, begging your mother to just let me in and see your room one last time. I spend my time aimlessly wandering along Sweetwater River all alone to distract myself from that feeling of threading my hands in through your hair and your hands resting lightly against my waist.

 

It doesn't effect you.

 

Until it does.

 

When your mom finally broke down and called me weeks after the accident and it finally hit me. You're really gone for good. I remember all of the late night FaceTime calls until you would fall asleep and the other would use the sounds of snores to help us succumb to sleep. I remember all of the times you tried to clean my room, and would quit five minutes in, just like I knew you would. I remember all of the spontaneous trips to Pop's at one a.m and the stern look and lecture your father gave me after he caught us sneaking back in. I remember you always cheering on the Bulldogs at the Friday night football games, and myself there just for you, and you always giving me little smiles. I remember the picnic I set up for you, and the time you straightened my hair. 

 

I'll remember. 

 

Although I'll never receive a phone call or an I miss you text again, I sure as hell wish I would be. I promise, every decision you made leading up to accident effects me, every single night, it's all I'm thinking about. Why did you have to go to that stupid party with Veronica? Why did she rush you into the car and speed home to beat your curfew? Why did that drunk man have to swerve into the lane you were in? Why weren't you wearing a seatbelt? You always wore one. Why did you have to die? Why couldn't I have been there. Maybe if I had been there, things would be different.

 

But I wasn't, and now I'm stuck with the consequences, and you'll never know how much your death effects me. Thank you for being there for me every single second when you were alive. I wish I were there for you. Now, I have to live for you to keep your memory alive.

 

I love you so much Betty, forever and always.


End file.
